


Absolution

by rippergiles



Series: Our Time [11]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rippergiles/pseuds/rippergiles
Summary: Early 2001. An ending and a beginning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during “Into The Woods” just before Riley leaves. Not terribly relevant, but may help orient you.

_You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve,_  
 _and I have always buried them deep beneath the ground._  
 _Dig them up,_  
 _Let's finish what we've started._   
**-Flaws, Bastille**  
  
  
  
  
  
        Rupert sat at his desk, crouched over what felt like the thousandth book this week, searching for anything on the entity called Glory. They were no closer to knowing more about her than when Buffy had first encountered her, and he felt as though their time was draining away. He blinked hard, willing his eyes not to cross.  
  
        A knock at the door shook him from rereading the same paragraph over again. Not expecting anyone, he rose carefully, picking up a crossbow from his weapons chest as he crossed to the door and cracked it open.  
  
        “Riley,” he said, confused by the appearance of Buffy’s boyfriend alone on his front step.   
  
        “Hello, Mr. Giles,” the young man replied. “Can I come in?”  
  
        Rupert backed up and gestured him inside, closing the door behind him and dropping his crossbow onto his desk.  
  
       “What’s wrong? Is Buffy--”  
  
       “Buffy’s fine,” Riley assured him. “Sorry to drop in unannounced, but this is more secure than a phone call. I don’t have a lot of time, but I wanted to talk to you.”  
  
       Rupert remained silent, bading Riley to continue. The young man didn’t look well. He was paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes replacing the vibrant tan he usually wore. What was more unusual was his manner of dress, black combat gear the likes of which he hadn’t worn in several months.  
  
       “I’ve had ears to the ground in the Initiative--”  
  
       “I thought the Initiative disbanded?” Rupert interrupted. He’d seen the facility abandoned when they’d infiltrated it to confront Adam.  
  
       “The one in Sunnydale did, after Maggie...after Professor Walsh was killed.” Riley confirmed, stumbling over the name of his former mentor.   
  
        Giles had realised the Initiative was corrupt when Maggie Walsh’s own creation had got the better of her. He couldn’t say he was terribly sorry to hear of her death, at least after she’d attempted to send Buffy to the same fate, but he could tell the memory of her betrayal still caused Riley pain. He nodded, hoping his empathy translated.  
  
        Riley continued. “But the one in Nevada, the detention facility, is still up and running. Similar operation to what we had here.”  
  
        “Are you saying it’s a threat?” Rupert asked.  
  
        “Not an immediate one, not to anyone here. But I didn’t come looking for help to take the Initiative down.”  
  
        Rupert frowned. “What is it, Riley?”  
  
        The young man sighed, avoiding Giles’ stare. “I might be gone for a while. I haven’t talked to Buffy about it yet. I’m headed to find her as soon as I leave.”  
  
        “When I left the Magic Box she was in the back training. She may still be there.”  
  
        “Thanks. I’ll start there.”  
  
        “But why are you telling me this?” Rupert asked, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Where are you going?”  
  
        “That’s not important. I came to tell you that I made some calls to my contacts in Nevada, to check on a few things before I left. Ethan Rayne is still in their custody--”  
  
        Rupert blinked. “What?”

        He shook his head incredulously. That couldn’t be correct. When the military men had taken Ethan, Rupert had assumed he would be kept a few hours, a few days at maximum, then released. He was a human, not a demon or beast. Doing the math in his head counting from that night, he came to a sickening conclusion. They’d held him for a _year_ …  
  
        “What are they doing with him?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm. He’d seen some of the equipment in Sunnydale’s facility and hated to think…  
  
        “I’m afraid I don’t know,” Riley answered. “Could be simple detainment, could be extensive experiments. They’re not used to having many human magic-users there, there’s not much precedent for how to utilise them.”   
  
        “Why are you telling me now?” Rupert repeated, more urgently this time. “Is something going to happen there?”  
  
        Riley looked at him, a sad exhaustion in his once-eager eyes. “I thought you’d want to know. I got the impression that you’d...been friends, once.”  
  
        Rupert gnawed at his lip, nodding slightly. “What can I do?”  
  
        “I can make a few calls to get him released, but someone needs to be there to pick him up. I don’t trust them not to take him into the desert and shoot him to keep him neutralised.”   
  
        Rupert felt faint at his words, gripping the corner of his desk to steady himself. The young man reached into a pocket on his vest, pulling out a thin badge card that displayed what looked like military credentials.  
  
        “This should help you get inside,” he told Giles as he handed it over, along with a folded piece of paper. “Those are the best directions I can give you. It’s just over the border, after you get through Death Valley. It’s a bit of a drive but it can be done in 6 hours if you drive fast.”  
  
        Rupert gripped the paper tight, putting the badge in his pocket. “I don’t know what to say.”  
  
        “If you’re going to go, go soon,” Riley advised as he backtracked to the door. “I’ll call my contacts on my way to see Buffy, get things sorted. If you don’t go, Mr. Giles… no one will know but the two of us.”  
  
        “Thank you,” he said quietly as Riley opened the door, stepping out into the evening.  
  
        “You might not want to thank me yet. See you, Mr. Giles.”  
  
        “Wait, where is it you’re--”  
  
        The young man closed the door behind him. Giles watched through the window as Riley began to jog away.  
  
        His mind was reeling. For so long he had assumed Ethan was out doing whatever it was he did, keeping out of Sunnydale after his brush with authority, not to mention his brush with a very angry Fyarl demon. Having the bombshell dropped on him that he was still in custody, subjected to god knows what for a whole year...Rupert felt ill. The recognition that Rupert had played a role in getting him captured made the disgust deepen. Ethan had of course been responsible for Rupert’s unsavoury condition, but if he’d gone straight to Buffy, she wouldn’t have searched for him, and Riley and the Initiative would have never become involved.   
  
        He retreated to the water basin in his hallway, trying to clear his head with a splash to the face. As he stared in the mirror, he thought of everything that had happened since Ethan had found him in Sunnydale. Transformative Halloween costumes that put children in danger. Trying to sacrifice Buffy to Eyghon to save his own skin. Enchanted chocolate that took away Rupert’s sensibilities. A demon that nearly caused him to lose everything.  
  
        Even still...as selfish as Ethan could be, the two of them had history. Ethan had followed Rupert from Oxford when he’d been forced to drop out. They’d lived in crummy conditions for years on nothing but the promises they’d made each other. Most of all, he’d been willing to stick around after Randall was killed, when Rupert was constantly on the verge of exploding and in danger of taking anyone in his vicinity down with him. Against his very nature, Ethan had managed to be one of the most loyal people in Rupert’s life, at least until Rupert had walked out.  
  
        Rupert took a deep breath as he fingered the security badge in his pocket. What was it that Ethan deserved? 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the end of “Our Time”. I cannot express enough love for everyone who has read this series over the past few months, especially those who took the time to leave comments and kudos. They really kept me going, and I hope you’ve enjoyed the series. It has been a fun exercise in finally exploring parts of the story I always believed Rupert and Ethan had, or should have had.  
> Thank you,  
> Holly

        Ethan laid on the uncomfortable twin mattress, a spring poking him in his side. He couldn’t find the motivation to move, even to relieve the discomfort. The lack of padding on his body’s frame did nothing to aid matters. Ethan had always been rather slim, but these days, he could see new bones standing out against his yellowing skin, which he had to admit was not an attractive look. Yesterday’s session had left him incapable of walking back to his cell, and the commandos had dragged him back, none too gently. He felt as though the time it took him to recuperate afterward was getting longer and longer every time they poked him, prodded him, hurt him in the hopes of provoking a magic reaction. He had given up hopes of escape many moons ago, barring some sort of miracle. The facility’s magic-proofing was too extensive, their security too tight for him to slip through even with his considerable wiles. He had passed the point of exhaustion months ago, now he was merely a resigned, constant tired.  
  
        He shifted enough to reach under his flattened mattress and pull out a small folded photo, his only possession that had managed to remain unseized since his arrival. As he’d stolen it from Rupert’s home, he supposed he couldn’t even really call it his. Opening the picture, he stared at his friends, this daily ritual bringing him pleasure in smaller and smaller doses as time went on. The creases had worn spots out over Randall’s shoulders and Thomas’ legs, but the faces of Ethan’s past were intact, and that was what mattered. Dee’s kind eyes and genuine smile and Philip’s eager energy shone through even now. Ripper and Ethan were in the middle, as they always had been, the center of the group’s tumultuous orbit. Six pairs of eyes stared up at him, the gaunt old man they saw looking back surely a disappointment to their youthful pride.  
  
         _What have you gotten yourself into this time?_ they seemed to ask.  
  
        “Into a hell of a boring retirement,” he muttered back.  
  
        The men in labcoats had shaved his head when he was brought in, which Ethan considered a truly treacherous act against his sensibilities when coupled with a standard-issue grey sweatsuit. A small scar now raised itself from his scalp where they’d implanted some kind of microchip. Since then, his hair had grown to become rather long and shaggy, the only indication Ethan had of the passage of time. He’d tried to keep a tally of days in the beginning, but when they’d discovered the dozens of small gouge marks on the wall behind his bed, they’d forcibly cut his fingernails painfully short, making him unable to continue. He thought it had to have been several months he’d been here, maybe even longer.  
  
       Sets of footsteps approached in the hall outside, growing louder. Ethan rarely caught glimpses of his fellow inmates, be they man or beast, but the anguished howls that carried from the experimentation rooms were enough. Rather than pass and fade away, the footsteps seemed to stop outside his electronically-controlled reinforced door.  Dread filled his veins at the too-recent memories of a bright sterile room, a maze of wires and needles feeding from the equipment into his every limb while indifferent researchers scribbled notes on clipboards. Surely it couldn’t be time again already?  
  
        A small beep indicated the door unlocking as he hurriedly tucked the photo back under the mattress. Ethan braced himself for the loud voices of the commandos, always carrying on their own conversations as they transported him like he was an oddly-shaped package rather than a person. Ethan was ignored unless he made some smart-arse remark, which was occasionally irresistible, but usually garnered the wrong kind of attention. The kind that left bruises and made life difficult. Once, after making the implication that scientists were here poking at monsters because they weren’t smart enough to be accepted into legitimate medical careers, Ethan’s daily meal had consisted of the bottom scrapings of moldy bread and soured meat for a week. As innate an instinct it was for him to jibe at his captors, he’d learned rather quickly to keep his head down and his mouth shut.

        The door opened, but the booming voices never came. Three words, spoken softly but resolutely, made their way to his ears.  
  
        “He’s in there?”  
  
        Ethan looked up. One of the soldiers backed away from the door, positioning himself silently in the hallway and granting the other party entrance. Six feet above the floor Ethan saw Rupert’s face as the rest of him stepped into the room tentatively. He’d had this particular rescue fantasy before, albeit usually with a bit more fanfare as Rupert fought his way through the complex to get to him. Ethan must have been too drained today to entertain himself with a proper hallucination. This time there wasn’t even a ripped shirt involved. Pity. Ethan sighed and turned back to the wall.  
  
        “Ethan?”  
  
        Rupert stepped forward, his shadow falling over Ethan’s threadbare blanket. A hand gripped his shoulder, shaking him gently. Electric energy made his skin tingle there as he heard Rupert’s voice calling his name again. Ethan closed his eyes, a smile forming on his face for the first time in months.  
  
         _Some rescue_ , he thought, remembering a night nearly thirty years ago now, _but I’ll take what I can get._

        “Hello, Ripper.”


End file.
